The Pillar and I exchange glances. So this was why Lewis made that chessboard. It explains why the Chessmaster asked him about the chess pieces the day he took his life. Lewis really cared for the Wonderlanders, though he knew most of them were monsters.
“But I wasn’t quite right,” the Chessmaster says. “Each time both of you found a piece, a Wonderlander seemed to be dying while in reality they were only poisoned, and some mysterious army of black men brought them to me.”
“Not much of a difference,” I remark, “because I assume you killed them when they arrived. My God, you killed Fabiola, the Duchess, and the Queen. Soon you will kill each of us, once you find the chess piece we’re connected to.”
I close my eyes, clench my teeth, and feel like I could kick myself for being so stupid. This is why the Queen was afraid of the Chessmaster. He is no Wonderlander. He is no Inkling. No Black Chess. But he is the one capable of ending the Wonderland Wars before they start, because he is about to kill us all right now.
Chapter 57
“You will kill us all!” I shout at the Chessmaster. “All you need is to find the rest of the chess pieces.”
“Calm down, Alice,” The Pillar says.
“I won’t calm down,” I am losing it, basically because of my stupidity. “He is going to kill us, and guess what? It’s me who led him to the chess pieces by unlocking the tomb in Marostica.”
“But he hasn’t found the rest of the pieces yet,” The Pillar reminds me. “And he doesn’t know where they are.”
“Yet.” I retort.
“He is just a dumb old man with an ancient handlebar mustache,” The Pillar argues. “He won’t find the rest of the pieces if we just stop searching.”
“Watch your mouth, Pillar,” the Chessmaster’s voice echoes. “I’m the greatest chess player in the history of mankind.”
“Oh, please,” The Pillar says. “Taking people’s life with a game of chess. You’ve destroyed my perception of death already. Where is the cool dude with the scythe and skeleton for a head? Now that’s what I call an awesome death. Chess game? Duh.”
“Don’t push me, Pillar, or I will tell Alice who you really are — and how we met before.”
“You keep saying that,” The Pillar says. “If you have something to tell her, do it now you liar.”
“Not now,” the Chessmaster counters. “It’s too soon. I want my masterpiece to be unveiled slowly. What good will it do me if I’m not entertained by my plan?”
“What plan?” I ask.
“The plan that will force you to find the rest of the pieces, Carroll’s Knight included, for me.” The Chessmaster seems sure of himself.
“You can’t make me do it.” I say dismissively.
“Don’t ever threaten me, Alice of Wonderland,” the Chessmaster laughs. It’s a bitter laugh, tinted with sadness and outrageous anger. My curiosity about him increases by the minute. So he isn’t just a mad chess player who wants to end the world, and not only Death itself. Then who is he really? Why is he doing this?
“Listen, mustache man,” The Pillar says, checking his hand watch. “Unless you have something really scary to show us, I’d like to leave and get me some new clothes and a new haircut.”
“Not funny, Pillar,” said the Chessmaster. “Whatever you do you will not be the ‘He Who Laughs Last’.”
He Who Laughs Last? The words remind me of The Pillar’s theory with the giant. I am beginning to think the Chessmaster was telling the truth about previously having met The Pillar.
“As for you, little Alice,” the Chessmaster says. “I hope you are ready to play.”
“Play? You mean that last game of chess?”
“Indeed, but it’s not like anything you’ve prepared for.” The Chessmaster says.
His words are followed by another rattling and drone underneath the chessboard. This time, something else accompanies the sound. Not an earthquake, but an incredibly horrifying joke.
The tiles in the chessboard part and human-size blocks of glass rise from under the earth. The whole thing is done with a most unimaginable technology. Slowly, I realize the chessboard is coming to life; each life size piece of chess, black and white, is standing upon the chessboard, only they’re trapped in glass prisons.
“What is going on?” My mouth hangs open.
I squint at the glass blocks and see the large chess pieces inside aren’t anything but real humans. They’re rapping on the glass from inside out, panicked, just like me.
The glass blocks are foggy from inside, so it’s hard to see their faces. Out of nowhere, a block of glass rises and imprisons me as well, in a flash of an eye.
I start rapping on the glass from inside, wanting out, demanding to know what is going on. But a fog fills the glass and it gets harder to see.
I keep wiping it out with the back of my hand, realizing my screams are only echoed back in my head and are hardly audible outside.